


Freedom City Follies

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, F/F, F/M, Humor, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:25:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Krantor notices Vila has a price on his head, and decides to collect the whole Liberator set. And have some harmless and profitable fun with them. They aren't keen on cooperation, but considering the alternatives, they agree.</p><p>This was the result of a challenge issued on the Adult B7 mailing list. One of the members came up with a list of 15 random elements that she dared anyone to fit into a story. That sort of thing is right up my alley. I had a lot of fun making it work. See if you can identify the challenge elements. The challenge list is in the note at the end of the fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freedom City Follies

**Author's Note:**

> I've got over 130 more old B7 fic that might be (have to reread and judge each) worth the time & effort of reformatting & posting to AO3. (This isn't counting drabbles, fic that needs more work than reformatting, and RPG threads that could be made into stories.)
> 
> So... maaayybe there will be more. Maybe.

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

"Ah! Oh, you wicked thing, Kapok, look what you've done now." Krantor picked up his Angora cat and tossed it gently away from his communicator mirror. He reached forward to shut the computer data-link which the cat had activated, information cascading down over the image of Vila. "Wait a moment," Krantor said, silver-nailed hand poised elegantly above the ornate gilt mirror. "Our too lucky fellow is an escaped felon. How interesting..." His eyes widened. "Oh, how marvelous, how ab-so- _lute_ -ly delightful. He is one of Blake's 'seven'. There are apparently six of them- well, one cannot excel in both mathematics and rebellion, it appears. And _all_ of them are very, very, much in demand in the Federation."

Toise had been peering over Krantor's shoulder. His eyes went even rounder than Krantor's. "Krantor, has that machine added a few zeroes?"

"Thirteen millllll-ion credits," Krantor purred. "For crew and ship, intact. If you break up the set, each one is worth a million." Krantor waved a hand at the mirror, and the images blurred as it rapidly scanned the casino, coming to an abrupt halt on a man in a silver tunic, eating one of the casino's more innocent desserts. Avon's tongue-tip emerged, capturing the single chocolate sauce drip that had escaped his spoon. "Two of them!" Krantor rolled his eyes in ecstasy. "And this one is even prettier than the other..." he mused.

"Intact?" Toise said, playfully.

"Hmmm..." Krantor tapped his own lips. "You may have a point there, Toise. Servalan will be quite happy to accept _used_ goods, I'm certain. And no mention need be made of the this... Vila's," Krantor checked the name on his screen, " _theft_ from my establishment. I want them. Have them picked up the moment they leave and look for the others as well."

Toise pouted. "Unfortunately, Krantor, Cevedic took all the men when they went to look for Travis. They're still combing the city."

"Well, don't just stand there, do something!"

"The Klute..."

"There is a price on their _heads_! It would be rather difficult to collect once they're vaporized, heads and all!" Krantor looked seriously annoyed for a moment, then turned sly and self-satisfied. "Of course. Cevedic took all the _men_."

Toise blinked, then nodded.

***

Grinning, Vila joined Avon. 

"I expect you'll be leaving now," Avon said.

"I'm just waiting for my winnings, old boy. Can't leave it behind. Even if it is only money."

Krantor floated into the casino, bouyed by a wave of barely-clad females who possessed exaggerated secondary sexual characteristics. "My dear sir!" he told Vila, waving his hands for emphasis, "My congratulations! Five million! That _is_ a record. My girls simply de- _man_ -ded to meet the man of the hour. How could I refuse them? Please, sir, while your money is being, uh, packaged, please _do_ say you will allow them to show you their... appreciation... - _private_ appreciation- for the excitement you have brought into all our humble little lives?"

Vila was frankly staring. Avon tried to ease away in the crowd, but Krantor's eyes flicked in his direction, and a trio of particularly tall and well-built women surrounded him, cooing over 'the friend of the winner'. Avon frowned and kept one hand on the butt of his gun, while his other hand held mini-Orac securely to his chest. "Ah, I do have business elsewhere," Avon said, trying to back away with no noticeable success.

"Oh, come on, Avon," Vila said cheerfully, both arms full of giggling women. 

Avon managed to get close enough to whisper in Vila's ear, "Don't be an idiot! You know what they want!"

Vila grinned. "And they can have it. Oh, don't worry, we can spare a few credits, can't we?" He lowered his voice. "Isn't the first time I've seen a casino try to get back some of the winnings. I know what I'm doing, Avon. You'll see."

"That's what I'm worried about, what I'll see," Avon muttered, reluctantly allowing himself to be dragged off in Vila's wake.

***

"Ah," Avon tried to sit up, clutching at his head, and belatedly realized he was wearing a black silk dressing gown. Only a black silk dressing gown. He rolled off the surface he was on- a soft, warm, bed, ignoring the way his gown flapped open, and scanned the room. Besides the obscenely large circular anti-grav bed with ruffled silver satin sheets, still bouncing from Avon's abrupt departure, there were several mounded heaps of brightly colored satin pillows, gold-enhanced tapestries, ankle-thick, intricately detailed carpets, tasteless decorations, including a huge, ornate, gilt mirror dominating one wall, tiny tables bearing an assortment of unfamiliar food-stuffs and a host of unidentified objects that Avon didn't particularly care to identify.

And Vila, dressed in a red satin dressing gown, embroidered lavishly with mythical reptiles in saffron. Vila was sitting on one of the piles of pillows, head in hands, apparently suffering even more than Avon from the aftereffects of whatever it was... Avon couldn't really remember. He had a mental image of being crushed into a crowd of soft flesh, poked and prodded on all sides, engulfed in perfume and deafened by shrill giggling. Almost _anything_ could have happened.

Avon began examining the walls, prodding the tapestries gingerly aside with a long object that Vila gaped at. Vila then shut his mouth firmly and turned his eyes away from it. "There must be a door somewhere," Avon said after a full circuit of the room had revealed only seemingly solid walls. He even managed to push the heavy mirror far enough away from the wall to see that only blank wall was behind it.

"P'raps they have a teleport, too," Vila commented. He'd got up and examined the things Avon wouldn't examine, but nowhere among them had he found his lock-picking tools or even a thin bit of wire, so he was rather hoping Avon wouldn't find a door, as it would be even more depressing to come across a simple lock he couldn't open.

Avon turned on Vila savagely, but the impact was lessened by his wardrobe, Vila noticed. "Why don't you shout it out! Perhaps the listening devices are hard of hearing!"

"I don't see any bugs," Vila said, doubtfully. In this over-decorated room, who could tell.

The mirror chuckled. Avon and Vila stared at it as their reflections vanished to be replaced by Krantor's beaming countenance. "Don't fight, boys!" Krantor said cheerily. "Make love, not war!"

Vila winced. Avon was simply angry, but then he hadn't identified the contents of the little tables. Vila had heard about Krantor's private amusements. 

"Whatever you want from us, you won't get it," Avon declared.

Krantor laughed, and behind him, Toise giggled. Kapok batted at the mirror again, and was unceremoniously shooed to one side. "Oh, well, in _that_ case." The screen split to show Servalan (apparently relayed from another room, as the background was different to Krantor's). She was uncharacteristically dressed in red, with an equally red slash of lipstick surrounding a shark-like grin. "I may as well hand you over to the Commander- the _Supreme_ Commander- _now_. Which shall it be, Supreme Commander," Toise said. His voice became serious. "Dead or alive?"

Servalan's lips pursed, prettily. "Unfortunately, I did not expect this delightful surprise, and came unprepared to safely transport such dangerous felons. Dead it shall have to be. What a pity."

"Ah. Quel dommage. The bounty is less that way," Krantor said, with a sigh. "However, if you could see fit to _amuse_ yourselves, and stay out of mischief for a while, perhaps the Supreme Commander could call for suitable transport back to Earth. You never know, you _might_ escape en route."

"Avon, Avon!" Vila said urgently, "Look, don't make any hasty decisions! You know, once you're dead, you're dead a long time."

Avon glanced at Vila. "If I am understanding both of you correctly, the answer is still 'no'. You simply do not do a thing for me, Vila."

"We'll work something out," Vila said.

Toise came up and whispered something in Krantor's ear. Krantor's smile returned. "Perhaps we may yet be able to accommodate your discriminatory friend, my dear Vila," he said, switching them off, and telling Servalan, "Circumstances have changed, my dear."

"For the better, one hopes for your sake, Krantor," Servalan said. She was not pleased that Krantor was in control, nor with his degenerate plans for his captives. She would much rather have handled the matter directly.

Krantor's hand waved a dismissive arabesque. "Oh, in- _fin_ -itely superior, Supreme Commander. I am sure you will be quite _satisfied_." He gave her another lascivious smirk.

Servalan snapped off the communicator from her end. "One of these days, Krantor, one of these days..."

Jarriere looked up from his rapt perusal of the latest issue of _Jane's Handbook of Hand Lasers_. "Ma'am?"

Servalan waved off his unspoken offer. "No, I shall wait and allow Krantor enough rope to hang himself. " Her head tilted to one side, like an eagle speculating on whether one lamb is fatter than another. "Quite possibly literally."

***

"That's them," Cevedic whispered to his men. He had been annoyed that Krantor had changed his orders. He was now to find Travis and follow him, hoping that the renegade would lead him to some rebels, as well as Docholli. Travis was still to be brought in dead, but the others Krantor wanted alive, which seemed unnecessarily messy and complicated to Cevedic, and meant he had to hire on temporary help and use stun-pistols.

Well, the extra money would come out of Krantor's pocket. Cevedic had made sure of that. He peered out of his hiding place at the group gathered at loading bay 10.

Travis was literally dis-armed, Docholli was an old sot of a doctor, and neither of the women looked dangerous to Cevedic. He aimed at Blake, intending to take out the strongest opposition first.

"Blake! Down!" Cally shouted, but Blake didn't move fast enough to avoid the full stun, and staggered backwards, Jenna attempting to help support him with one hand and drawing her own gun with the other. "Teleport!" Jenna shouted, managing somehow to press the transmit button even as she ducked and shot. Travis glared, expecting the three rebels to disappear, leaving him to take the heat alone, but nothing happened. 

Cally spared an instant to try her own bracelet. "Teleport. Avon, Vila, are you there?"

Travis was savagely pleased to realize what had happened. They'd left the two thieves in charge of the ship. Avon and Vila had naturally taken it and run. Blake wouldn't be going anywhere. He could get Docholli out of the way, and come back for Blake.

"Teleport, damn it! Avon, Vila, what are you _doing_ up there! Orac!" Jenna cried finally in desperation. "Teleport!" 

Travis grinned at the despair in her voice. He clutched his disconnected arm in one hand, and herded Docholli back with the pressure of his body. 

Cevedic noted the large shadow in the background as belonging to a certain Trantinian freighter captain who was none too particular about stowaways. Seeing two sizable fees getting away, Cevedic yelled, "No," and stood up to shoot at Travis. Travis was faster and quite accurate, even with a normal gun. Cevedic fell, in no condition to ever care about his expense account.

Travis shoved Docholli into the arms of the Trantinian. "Get him away," Travis snarled and turned to Blake, who was now lying helpless, practically at Travis's feet, Cally and Jenna both having been forced to leave him in order to fight.

"You've saved me again, Travis," Docholli said. "Come with me."

Travis looked back, startled. "Why?"

"I think we could both use a friend." Docholli smiled, and for a moment Travis forgot about Blake. When he remembered, it was too late. Cevedic was dead, but his men had swamped Blake's women's defenses, hampered as they were by their efforts to protect their leader and Blake was hidden behind them. Travis bit off a curse. He was good with a gun, but not good enough to take on a dozen, single-handed. "Yeah, all right. I'll go with you." He hitched his disconnected arm into a more comfortable carrying position and strode after Docholli and the Trantinian.

***

Krantor rubbed his hands with glee as Toise arranged the unconscious rebels according to his directions. The soma vapor sedative had worked marvelously on Avon and Vila, making it a simple matter to reunite the crew of the _Liberator_ , now suitably attired.

"Yees," Krantor said, putting a finger to his nose as he considered. "The big, curly one with _that_ one," he said, pointing at Avon, spread limply over the big, floating bed. I think the girls together over there," he waved at a nearby pile of cushions. He frowned down at Vila. "What do you think, Toise?"

Toise looked at Vila, dubiously. "Well, he _could_ be part of a threesome."

"Rather spoils the effect," Krantor replied. "Pairs are all the rrrrage this season, but ordinary het is passe." He considered a moment longer. "Ah, of course! Tiger Lil, she likes the cuddly ones, and you know how pop- _u_ -lar her performances always are."

After a last moment check of props and lighting, Krantor glanced at Avon, who had rolled over in his drugged sleep, resting his head against the bare expanse of Blake's chest revealed by the flopped open white velvet robe above the gold velvet belt at his waist. Avon appeared quite comfortable, with his mouth slowly suckling on Blake's nipple. "He must have been a beautiful baby..." Toise commented.

***

This time when he woke, Avon's head didn't hurt, but he felt slightly nauseated. He opened his eyes and saw Blake, staring at him expressionlessly. The nausea increased. "Go on," Avon said wearily. "Say it."

"You know what you've done." Blake sat down next to Avon and put a knuckle to his mouth. "What I want to discuss is how we're going to get out of this situation."

Avon sat up, and winced. "Do you understand the situation?"

Blake nodded. "Tiger Lil explained it."

"Who?" Avon looked up and saw a bipedal alien, at least seven feet tall, covered in fluffy scarlet, orange and white feathers standing over Vila, who was sprawled over a clump of pillows. Evolution on Tiger Lil's planet must have been interesting, as eight scarlet-nippled, pale brown-skinned teats protruded through the feathers of her chest and belly. "Ah. Yes. Well." Avon looked down at himself and pulled his robe tighter. "What do you suggest?"

Blake shrugged. "At the moment, delay. Gan will soon realize we are overdue to check in, and he'll turn the _Liberator's_ weapons on Freedom City."

Avon blinked. Had Blake's memory been scrambled by stunning or whatever drugs had been used on them? If anyone knew Gan was dead, it was Blake. 

Blake gave Avon a steady stare, and went on, "Of course, since the accident, he can't talk, so there'll be no warning before he attacks. I only hope he is patient enough to first allow us time to explain to Krantor how easily _Liberator_ could destroy the city. I'd regret the unnecessary loss of thousands of lives if he loses that temper of his and starts firing the neutron blasters."

Avon took up the thread. "Not to mention the possibility that he might hit _us_."

"Oh, that's unlikely. He'll go for major industrial areas first. After a few billion credits worth of damage are done, I imagine Krantor will be glad to let us go."

By this time the rest of _Liberator's_ crew were awake and adjusting to the situation. Neither Cally nor Jenna were pleased to find themselves wearing filmy negligees with skin-tight, thigh-high boots. Jenna's outfit was baby-blue, with diamond straps and diamond heels on the boots. From the way they sparkled, they might even be real diamonds. Cally was wearing a matching red costume, and her boots had at least fifteen buckles.

***

Watching the scene in her suite in the transport hotel, Servalan laughed into her mirror. 

"Ma'am?" Jarriere asked.

"I admire Blake's audacity. Shall I tell Krantor that he is lying?"

"Lying?" Jarriere's brows pulled together quizzically. 

"Gan's demise has not been publicized," she said patiently. "It was not deemed politic to announce the death by misadventure of the least dangerous member of Blake's crew."

"Ah." Jarriere thought for a moment. "So if you don't tell Krantor..." He paused.

Servalan sighed. Despite his numerous hidden talents, Jarriere did try her patience. "If I do not tell Krantor, Blake may very well bluff him into releasing them. Which may provide an opportunity for _me_ to capture them without having to deal with that insufferable egotist at all."

"So you don't tell Krantor." Jarriere smiled, and handed Servalan another peeled grape.

***

Toise was frightened. "Krantor! Did you hear that?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Don't worry about it." Krantor patted the side of his newest 'pet'. "Orac, my dear, would you please tell Toise why we need not worry about this dreadful Gan person obliterating us?"

Orac (returned to full-size with the electronic equivalent of a headache, and correspondingly, a grudge against Avon and Vila, and by default, Blake, who had left him at their mercy) grumbled and sighed before saying, "Gan is dead. There is no one left aboard the Liberator capable of operating the weaponry." Orac did not bother to add that _he_ was able to contact Zen even from the planet's surface, and give any orders he felt necessary.

"There, you see." Krantor smiled, and then his eyes narrowed. "I could leave them basking in the warm glow of hope, but I think not. Time is money, Toise." He leaned forward and flicked on the mirror-com linking him to the confined rebels' quarters.

***

"Tiger Lil?" Vila exclaimed when he opened his eyes to find a double row of nipples filling his view. "What are you doing here? You were in Space City... um..." Vila looked at Cally, who was sending an unmistakable message that didn't require telepathy. "I could be wrong, all Owllycats look alike in the dark," he temporized.

The mirror flickered, and Krantor's beaming face appeared. "It was a good try, Blake, a _very_ good try," he said in a consoling voice. "But unless you are expecting spiritual guidance from _beyond_ ," he waved his hands, "your dear, departed Gan is _most_ unlikely to be of any assistance to you."

Blake looked at Krantor. "Don't think that selling us to the Federation will buy your safety. The Federation will turn on you, too."

"Oh, yes, of course," Krantor said, "but not _today_. Today they will pay me a _great_ deal of money for you, once I deliver you to their representative."

"Then why haven't you done it already?"

"Because, my dear, handsome rebel," Krantor said, batting his eyes whilst Toise looked annoyed. "Because The Big Wheel is not my only financial venture. I am also a producer and purveyor of quality adult entertainment vid-disks."

***

Blake glanced at Avon, looked around and noticed the pairings Krantor apparently intended. "Now's the time to say 'I'd rather die,' isn't it, Avon?"

"On the whole..." Avon turned to look at Tiger Lil. "But perhaps we have an alternative. Surely Krantor would not wish harm to come to his employee?"

Tiger Lil stood up, extended three-inch long talons from her hands, and smiled.

Vila burrowed into a nest of pillows. Cally and Jenna stood and braced themselves for a fight.

Krantor said, "Oh, well, then, if you want to make it a _snuff_ vid, I get paid quite well for those as well. Gentlemen, and Ladies, please, _please_ do believe me when I say that either way, Krantor wins. Why not choose the less painful, even possibly quite enjoyable, alternative? Who knows? Whilst you are forming closer relationships amongst yourselves, your example of harmonious unity may move me to join your rebellion, defy the Supreme Commander and set you all free." His arms spread in another expansive gesture, at odds with the cold look in his eyes.

"When pigs fly," Jenna said clearly. She tossed her head. "I wouldn't trust a single word out of that silver snake's filthy mouth, Blake."

Krantor's eyes narrowed. "Then again, vids depicting the rrrravishment and torture of beautiful women sell _extremely_ well."

Cally sent Krantor a telepathic message _May you die alone and silent._

Krantor blinked. "Toise, can we record _that_?"

"I don't know, Krantor," Toise replied, looking flustered.

"Orac," Krantor said clearly, watching the reaction of his captives. "Can we record Cally's telepathic transmissions, and incorporate them into our little epic?"

"Of course," Orac said sharply. "I am sending the directions for the construction of such a recording device to your main data link, even as we speak. It will require approximately twenty minutes for your automated constructor to create it."

"Dirty rat-in-a-box traitor," Vila muttered, pulling his head back out of the pillows as he judged battle had been delayed.

"Well?" Krantor said.

Blake frowned. "Even if I agreed, we're not machines, like Orac. You can't simply expect us to perform on cue against our natural inclinations."

"True." Krantor nodded. "I have encountered this problem with amateurs in the past. I find that a little chemical encouragement does wonders."

"No drugs," Blake said, fury masked behind a calm exterior that made Avon sharply alert, ready to respond if Blake's anger found a solution, as it so often did.

"No, nothing like that, purely natural, harmless substances, such as I, myself, partake of, purely in a recreational capacity." Krantor glanced at Toise. "See to it."

"NO!" Blake started towards the mirror, but Cally sent a focussed thought directly to Blake, _Let him, Blake. He will have to open the room to admit his 'encouragement'. He cannot prevent us from being alert and ready to take advantage of that opening. Multiple stuns or excessive soma vapor would ruin any male human's 'performance' for days, as Krantor must know._

Blake paused, remembering how annoyed the crew of the Ortega had been about that and his anger redirected itself into planning. "All right, Krantor."

***

Under Cally's silent orders his crew had scattered to cover as much of the room as possible, casually lounging as they watched and listened for any sign of an opening.

Tiger Lil had grown bored and pulled Vila in to sit on her lap for a cuddle. After a brief squirm and a look of 'What can I do?' at Blake and Avon, Vila lay back, giving in to the inevitable. So he was the only one who happened to be looking up as a section of decorative molded sculpture in the ceiling rolled aside and a small anti-grav tray descended into the room.

Vila yelled, "Hey!" and pointed, but the opening was too high to be reached by Blake's hasty leap and closed within a few seconds, leaving them gazing upward, thinking thoughts of human pyramids.

 _Krantor would certainly flood the room with soma vapor if we tried to reach it._ Cally thought, carefully keeping herself focussed to prevent thought leakage to Krantor's machine. Avon didn't hear her, but Blake reached out, tapped Avon on the shoulder and pointed at the mirror, which communicated the message just as clearly.

They gathered around the tray which had settled itself on a table in clear view of the mirror. It held six glasses of cloudy red wine, and a large bust made of chocolate in the shape of Gan. 

Blake looked from the bust to Krantor's image in the mirror.

Krantor smiled. "Since you appeared to miss your companion so, it seemed only fitting to include him in the party. He is made of only the very finest chocolate, I assure you."

" _What_ is in the wine?" Avon asked, staring dubiously at the small conical lumps floating in the liquid. Each lump had a pair of fine filaments at one end, and a sharp-looking point at the other.

Jenna picked up a glass, sniffed it and said, "Love-bugs," disgustedly. "Very effective aphrodisiac, with generally harmless side-effects. I carried it as cargo, more than once," she said to Blake's raised eyebrows. "And no, I didn't try it. I don't _need_ chemical enhancement." She started to put the glass back on the table.

"Whether or not _you_ need it is beyond the question," Krantor said from the mirro. "My clients expect a totally uninhibited performance, and I aim to please." Behind him, Toise giggled, as if the last were a private joke.

Still holding the glass, Jenna looked at Blake who nodded reluctantly and picked up a glass himself. He swirled it for a moment, gazing at it, then said, "All right. We'll do it together." He handed the glass to Avon, who looked uncomfortable for a moment before putting on a bland, uncaring face.

Blake handed around the glasses, one at a time. Even Vila was subdued. "It's not the same, doing it because someone's telling you to," he remarked. 

"No doubt to Krantor's _clients_ that is part of the attraction. Coercion adds titillation." Avon held his glass between two fingers, as if avoiding contamination.

"Then let's give them what they want and get it over with," Blake said with controlled savagery. He drained his glass and stared at Avon in challenge. With a grimace, Avon followed suit. They stared at each other for a moment, then, as if irresistibly pulled together, lunged for each other. Blake got the upper hand and pulled Avon down to the lush carpet, rolling them half beneath the table holding Gan's bust. 

Under cover of groping Avon, Blake turned his head to one side and spit out the insect wine. Avon rolled his eyes, and followed suit once more. Reaching up to Blake's head, he pulled him close enough to whisper, barely a breath, into Blake's ear. "Great minds work alike?"

"Let's hope the others do too," Blake muttered back, nearly mauling Avon with the force of his groping. "Be a bit awkward, otherwise."

Avon bit on Blake's ear.

***

Servalan sat up, brushing Jarriere aside. While she wasn't normally a voyeur, the show going on in the mirror did have its points of interest. Vila had technique, but then, so did Jenna. She glanced back and forth, watching as Vila seemed to grow extra hands to deal with Tiger Lil's surplus mammary glands, and Jenna explored the erogenous zones of the Auron with hands, tongue, and whip-like flicks of her hair. Servalan considered momentarily keeping Jenna for a pet.

Then her eyes wandered to Blake and Avon. Such enthusiasm... she moved closer to the mirror, nose only inches away from the glass.

***

_Oh, my love is tender in my thoughts,_  
sweet in my mind,  
and swift to read my pleasure. 

Jenna giggled and pulled Cally closer. Kissing her mouth-to-mouth in the middle of her recitation didn't slow Cally down an instant.

Avon groaned, "Auron love-poetry," and buried his face in Blake's neck. 

"Isn't poetry supposed to rhyme?" Vila remarked, rather muffled by a mouthful of breast, then yelped as Tiger Lil slipped a molted feather up his backside and began tickling him on the inside as well as the outside.

 _No, only our love-songs rhyme_ Cally said. She licked Jenna's heaving rib-cage meditatively, then mentally sang:  
_Come with me to the realms of fire,_  
Look within to feel my desire.  
Oh, please, please, touch me _there_!  
And kiss me, kiss me, everywhere!

"Not an improvement," Avon said, even as Blake yanked him up and tumbled the two of them onto the bed.

***

"Pass me the patake cakes, Toise," Krantor said, arranging his pillows comfortably so he could watch his mirror and pet his pussy at the same time. Kapok mewed once in protest, then closed her eyes and took a nap.

***

Blake started to shrug out of his robe, but Avon stopped him by kneeling and using his teeth to undo the knot of the gold velvet rope belting it, along with a great deal of unnecessary nuzzling and licking at underlying areas. By the time the belt finally fell loose, Blake had become so excited that he'd ripped Avon's robe. It hung in several large pieces, exposing a nipple here, a flash of chest hair there, sliding over sweat-slick expanses of pale flank nearly everywhere else.

Avon pulled the black robe off and with a smooth flex of shoulder muscle tore it completely across. He held up a length of black cloth in one hand, and the gold rope in the other.

"Games, Avon?" Blake panted, obviously not put off in the slightest by the sight of a nude, fully-aroused man preparing to bind and blind him.

"Well, now, I thought it might be visually effective."

"And allow you a sense of control at the same time?" 

Avon smiled. "I _have_ control. Kneel."

Blake obeyed, sinking silently into the thick carpet. By unspoken agreement, he and Avon had taken central stage before Krantor's mirror to distract from the others. There were undoubtedly more surveillance devices hidden about the room, but they would be linked to recording machinery, not Krantor's and Servalan's eyes.

"Just don't use feathers," Blake said as Avon put the blindfold on him, and pressed close to Blake, leaning over to bind Blake's hands behind.

"Your lack of imagination restricts me, but, very well." Avon got up and trailed a hand along Blake's shoulder as he walked around him. "Ah, just the thing."

Blake startled as something pressed against his back. It was warm and softened on contact and clung like mud. The feeling moved around Blake's neck and over to his chest, where it traced circles around and around before trailing back up, over his throat, where the pressure was momentarily uncomfortable, then up to his mouth.

Blake opened his mouth and identified the slick, smooth substance. "Chocolate! Gan!"

"Yes," Avon said before he kissed Blake's chocolate coated lips. He licked his tongue inside Blake's mouth, then pulled back. "He is very nice. _Was_ very nice. A pity you never tried him. Before you got him killed, that is."

Blake growled and tried to reach for Avon, but the gold rope held his wrists securely. "You're never going to forgive me for that, are you? Why? You never cared for him."

"He was... accommodating." Avon ran his hands over Blake's chest, smearing the chocolate around and adding more. "I've been frustrated, of late."

"And now you're going to take it out on me?"

Avon laughed. "In you, Blake, _in_ you."

***

Servalan and Krantor, in their separate rooms, watched avidly. Toise sighed and painted his nails, while Jarriere filled in the Federation Times crossword puzzle, in sequence, in indelible pen.

***

Blake struggled, but it was apparent his heart wasn't in it. Behind them, matters were moving on quite well with Jenna and Cally and Vila and Tiger Lil, if moans, groans and occasional squeaks and squeals were anything to go by.

Avon turned Blake around and stood him in front of the mirror. "Show them how much control I have over you," Avon ordered in Blake's ear. 

Blake shuddered, but he could not deny it. "Avon, no. Just fuck me. Don't do this."

"Why not? It will be my last chance to humiliate you as you have so often done me. We're going to die here."

"And for once you can't call it my fault. _You_ were the one who decided to sneak off to gamble while _we_ were risking our lives for the cause!"

"Oh, your damn, bloody cause!" Avon snapped. "I'll show you what I think of your cause!" Avon had been rubbing melted Gan all over himself and Blake, and now he held Blake's hips and forced his cock slowly up Blake's backside. It was a particularly rich and creamy chocolate, and it made a fair enough lubricant. 

Blake grunted and shuffled forward, driven against the mirror. Avon reached around and grabbed Blake's cock with both hands, adding to the layer of chocolate that Blake rubbed off against Krantor's mirror.

***

"I can't see!" Servalan and Krantor protested, nearly in unison as the chocolate covered the mirror. "I was almost there!" they wailed, without realizing how very similar they sounded at that moment. Jarriere and Toise, recognizing the signs, nearly in unison offered themselves for their respective leader's use. Moans and groans from both sides of various mirrors reached a crescendo along about the same time.

Bored, Kapok left the room, carrying a play-toy in her mouth.

***

Panting, Avon pulled out of Blake, and collapsed on the carpet for a moment, then he staggered to his feet and untied Blake's hands.

Blake sat up, pulled off the blindfold and checked that the mirror was still obscured. Then he turned to watch Avon approach Jenna and Cally. 

Avon put his finger to his lips. Jenna nodded. Avon reached down to Jenna's left foot. Jenna pulled back, confused, then shrugged and let him remove her diamond-studded boot. She and Cally sat up and watched as he went back to Blake with the boot.

Avon nudged Vila on his way back, and Vila silently extracted himself from Tiger Lil's embrace, substituting several plump pillows when she reached out in her sleep towards him. Barefoot, Vila padded after Avon. Lopsidedly, Jenna started after Avon, then stopped and let Cally pull off Jenna's remaining boot. 

Silently Avon directed Vila to hold onto the chocolate-smeared mirror. Holding the boot at an awkward angle, Avon used the largest diamond to score a good-sized hole in the middle of the glass, then he picked up a pillow. Vila shook his head, grabbed the pillow from Avon, exchanged it for a thinner one and laid it over the glass, tapping gently once on each of the four sides of the cut.

The glass broke with a barely-audible tinkle, falling into the pillow. Vila grinned and reached up to pat himself on the back. Avon pulled Vila out of the way, peering into a maze of electronics behind the glass. He yanked, seemingly at random, ducked at a flash of electricity, then waved away a puff of smoke before extracting several small pieces of metal and wire. Then he sat back on his heels and gave Blake an interrogative look.

Blake pointed at the ceiling, then the floating bed. Avon nodded. They all pushed the bed until it was floating several inches above the floor, directly below the area in the ceiling that had opened.

Tiger Lil snored. Cally ran over to stand near her, holding a heavy, and tasteless, statue in her hands, prepared to strike if it looked like the Owllycat was waking up.

Avon opened the mechanism of the anti-grav bed and fiddled with the internal settings. He paused and waved to the others to get on the bed, waited until they were all in place, then made a last twist. The bed began rising. Avon leaped for the bed and missed, but Blake and Vila caught his hands and pulled him up.

The bed kept rising. Blake, Avon, Jenna and Cally put their hands up to keep it from hitting the ceiling while Vila improvised a pick from the wire Avon had salvaged from the mirror and began working on the ceiling.

After a few moments, Avon whispered. "The anti-grav will burn out from overload in about fifteen seconds."

Vila didn't appear to pay any attention, but three seconds later the trap-door opened, and they scrambled out onto a passageway which looked very much like an ordinary upper-class casino corridor.

Several guests stared as they emerged.

"Which way to Krantor's private quarters?" Blake asked.

The guests started arguing about the answer, then one of them ducked back into her room and emerged with a casino guidebook.

"Thanks," Blake said, swiftly leafing through it before handing it back.

The guests watched Blake and crew disappear around the nearest bend.

"I _told_ you Mardi Gras is much more fun if you dress up," one woman said to her male friend.

"Not me," he said sadly. "I've not got the figure for it."

***

Kapok stared in fascination at the people entering the outer room of Krantor's private quarters. She went up to the one she particularly liked and rubbed around his ankles. When he moved away, she followed, and pressed harder.

"Do something about that animal, Avon, before it starts making noise," Blake ordered, while he and the others continued to quietly rummage through gaudy furniture, looking for their teleport bracelets.

"Don't kill it!" Cally said, seeing Avon's annoyance, and picking up the cat herself. "It can't make any noise, it has something in its mouth."

Kapok was not pleased about this second-choice human picking her up, but Cally at least knew hold to hold a pussy, so she decided to purr and dropped her toy.

"Orac's key!" Blake picked up the damp piece of electronics and shoved it in Avon's direction. "Find it. Now."

***

Orac was in a gilt armoire, surrounded by teleport bracelets, and their clothes. Everyone snatched everything up hastily, but only bothered to put on the bracelets.

"Teleport now, Orac," Blake ordered as soon as Avon inserted the actuator.

***

Servalan rolled over on her pile of pillows, yawned, pushed Jarriere to one side, and reached out for the mirror. The chocolate-smears appeared to have gone, and it reflected only herself. She turned it on. It flared up, and she shouted, falling backwards.

Jarriere woke up, took one look at Servalan's bright red nose and said, dazed, "Did you have a good day at the shore, ma'am?"

***

Krantor rushed into his captives' chamber, and looked about in dismay. "Gone, _all_ gone!" He pushed Toise away and flung himself onto the carpet, pounding his fists into it in a fit of pique. "OW!" He sat up and sucked on his hands, and pulled off several love-bug stingers.

He looked down at them, then up at Toise and Tiger Lil, who were staring at him in confusion. "Oh, bugger it," Krantor said. "It's Mardi Gras!" and pulled them both down into the carpet with him.

***

"It was rather unfair, dragging Gan into it like that," Blake said.

Jenna had taken _Liberator_ out of orbit and stayed on watch, Cally had taken Kapok to the medical unit to be sure the cat was carrying no diseases, Vila had gone to his cabin to hide the diamonds he'd pried out of Jenna's boots, and Blake had gone for a shower. With Avon.

Avon shut his eyes and tilted his head so that the water ran down his throat.

"And it's unfair of you to do that when I'm being angry at you."

"You should be grateful that I convinced Krantor that I didn't care for you and that I erased the recordings. Think what it would have done for your reputation if the Federation knew you'd been shagging me since five minutes after the _London_ lifted off from Earth."

"Half an hour," Blake said, "Remember, I was confined."

Avon flicked a tongue over his lips. "I remember."

" _That's_ particularly not fair," Blake said, watching the path Avon's tongue took.

"All's fair in love and war," Avon replied.

From the bedside table, Orac said, "There is no logical basis for that statement." 

"Oh, shut up, Orac," Blake and Avon said simultaneously.

**Author's Note:**

> _Sally's Challenge - elements listed in the order first mentioned in the story._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> 1 Avon's black silk dressing gown - preferably torn
> 
> 2 A circular floating bed with ruffled silver satin sheets - _not_ on the  
>  Liberator
> 
> 3 Someone or something called Tiger Lil
> 
> 4 Gold velvet rope
> 
> 5 "He must have been a beautiful baby..." 
> 
> 6 Scarlet feathers
> 
> 7 Jenna's diamond-heeled boots
> 
> 8 What Vila _saw_ in Space City
> 
> 9 Gan and chocolate 
> 
> 10 Alien aphrodisiac insects served in red wine.
> 
> 11 Servalan's nose 
> 
> 12 Auronar love poetry 
> 
> 13 Auronar love songs
> 
> 14 A black blindfold
> 
> 15 "There is no logical basis for that statement."


End file.
